Sunday, November 20, 2011

I Don't Get It

I don't think I will EVER get it. For some reason, I am the bad child.

I turned 16 and got a job. I have held down a job successfully since then. I have never had a drug problem. I've only smoked pot a handful of times and I was 19 the first time. I don't like the feeling of being high so I don't do it. I don't have any children, I was smart enough to get on birth control and use condoms and do what I needed to to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. I didn't drink in high school, again, I was 19 before I ever got drunk. I was in a safe environment and I didn't leave. We just had a good time and then went to bed.

My brothers... All of them.. are a different story. The one in particular this post is about shares my father with me. The 3 older ones are from a different father. My little brother has done drugs since he was in junior high. He used to sit in his room and do coke all night. When living at home, he didn't work, didn't contribute to the house, nothing. He dropped out of school. He had a girlfriend move in, she didn't pay rent or contribute either. I paid rent. Paid bills. He went to raves, he partied all the time. That was his life. He decided to go to school, and when finished, didn't have a job. Didn't WANT a job. He had a meth problem. In the middle of a meth binge one day, had unprotected sex cuz he doesn't like condoms. The result is my beautiful baby niece..

He still isn't working. Still isn't doing anything with his life. I have done everything I can to take care of myself... I have held down 2-3 jobs. And today I find out that my brother is a victim. Of? My father thinks he's a victim. The mother of Talon's baby trapped him. Um, sorry. Unless she raped him, Talon could have wrapped it. And he didn't. He CHOSE not to. How is he a victim?

How am I looked at like I can do nothing right but he's a victim? He makes these choices! I made the choice to help 2 people and they screwed me over! I don't get it. I don't understand why he is a victim if he knew the choice he made and was aware of his potential consequences...

He is a golden child and I am the fuck up... End rant...

P.s. don't get me wrong.. I love my little brother and I am not mad at him, its just something I don't understand. It isn't his fault my father sees him how he does... I just wish my dad actually saw reality.


Friday, November 11, 2011


The love between child and parent is that kind of love.

Past that? I don't see it existing. Not for anyone else.

I love all my friends and all my family no matter what they put me through. I love everyone that way.

Why can't people love that way back?

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Found it!!

Written 11/09/2011... Published today.

well. isnt that just a wee smack to the face. kinda.

a lot of my family has mental health issues. so i am really used to the dysfunction of it and used to the constant changes. i had a conversation with my very good friend who is bipolar, and she was even saying "do you realize how fast your talking right now?" i went online and took a test for it that states it isnt a positive diagnosis, but you should see a psychiatrist and have them determine if you truly are and if you need help getting balance back. my results come in...

1-10 points means your in a mania.
10-25 points says your in a depression and possible bipolar spectrum disorder.
25-60 points says bipolar spectrum disorder.

i scored a 51. Awesome sauce right?? so no little bit, i have to score almost as high as i can.

do i think its the end of my life? no way. do i realize all that i need to do with this? yes. i nee dto get in to a psychiatrist.

Monday, November 7, 2011

I will not...

Gouge out their eye balls.. take a baseball bat to their knees. Tie them to a table and drip water on their chest. Make them listen to nails on a chalk board. String them up by their toes. String them up by pubic hair.. no.. I really won't do that.. nasty ass disease infested ickiness.. where was I?
I will not strip them down to a tank top and chonies and make them lay in an ice bath.. draw penises on their face in sharpie and send them to work..
Shank them.. shoot them.. stab them.. expose them to ebola.. run them over with my car.. laugh as they contract ghonasyphaherpaAIDS.. drop them on an island full of lepers... plot evil doings of any kind.

I will not be doing any of these things or worse.. cuz I am a good person. I am a kind hearted person. I gave people a safe place to stay, I trusted them, I would have gone to battle for them. They called me friend, family, sister. This is NOT what family does. No, I don't have the best example of what real family is and I know this but there is a reason my mini family has Christmas and Thanksgiving apart from when its normally done. It's the only time we see what real family SHOULD be. Not the drama of overly intoxicated parents or aunt n uncles who have made an issue out of a non issue. Dirty laundry isn't aired or judged, we don't try and have drama, we just want an enjoyable holiday memory. That is family.

All those things I WANT to do to the people involved in the Hostile Takeover but I will not. I will wait for karma to take its vengeance and raise her mighty bitch slapper and I will wait for my good fortune. I will stop expecting something instant. I will simply wait patiently knowing I must be granted good fortune and for doing the good things I did. For enduring all that I have. Everything from my childhood, which made me stronger, to my rape 2 years ago. I believe that something positive must come. A break. A step forward.

Life will stop kicking me in the gut. It will stop pulling my teeth out with pliers and no pain killers. It will maybe at least spit on it first? There is a balance. Laws of science and physics. For every action there is an equal reaction.

For all good, there must be bad and for all bad there must be something good.

I am praying for peace.


I realize I mostly only have like..2 people who read this.. so those who happen to stumble upon my blog, I apologize for my lack of shiny optimism. Some day I will get it back..

Saturday, November 5, 2011

At A Loss...

I couldn't hate them more. I honestly have never wished ill will on people. I home she gets sick. I hope they end up homeless. I hope they all fucking rot in Hell.


Unlock It All Please

Inside I am a knotted mess. My stomach is doing gymnastics and my heart wants to pound and I feel sick.

I am so anxious all the time. I am angry all the time. Sometimes I feel like I displace it and sometimes I know that its going exactly where it should be. I keep waiting to feel better. Sometimes I do...

For 5 fucking minutes...

And then its right back to anxious mess. It's right back to hard to breathe and using all my energy to keep my stomach contents (or lack there of) in my belly.

I was a ridiculously optimistic, bouncy, fun loving girl at one time. Some day I feel that, but its clouded with a hint of pessimism and I feel like I am convincing myself that there is something good in the world when I know deep down its a rotted pile of cold butt... that didn't even make sense to me, but then again.. I don't make sense to me any more.

I know I am not the only girl in the world who has been through what I have. Do I feel like I am? Some days. Realistically I know I am not.

I remember last winter, almost a whole year after it happened, I told Jaimie. I remember she was so frustrated at my flakey behavior and my wanting to block the world out.. in all fairness, she was going through something and need me. I didn't know where to find it in me to be there..

Guilt. A newly discovered feeling as I write this now.

I remember her telling me I needed to come over and talk to her. I remember her trying to help me get through this then.. her making me say it out loud. To feel what hurt so very badly.

I felt violated all over again. Not by her, just felt myself in my room again. A place that had been safe and now felt like I was naked and exposed.

Part of me wanted to hide away forever, to sit in the dark, with no one around. No, all of me wanted to.

I didn't want to exist. I didn't want to feel. I don't know how I have come through this without a dependency on any form of drug or alcohol. I didn't drown myself in booze or start doing drugs to forget my feelings.

I found my addiction to karaoke though... I found my tiny little bar, with nice friendly people, and I found that they didn't judge me. They didn't push me. They seemed to accept me without asking me questions about who I am and what brings me in. I found confidence in my singing in public and found that I could poor my feelings into a song and I could feel better... for a minute...

I still love karaoke but it is feeling empty... I think that's why I started this. I will never be better if I don't process.

Is it just me or are my blogs a jumbled mess? Maybe further insight into the inner workings of of my brain and thoughts and feelings...

I am a jumbled mess...

Perhaps worse then I ever realized.